


Family Reunion

by IvyBlooms



Series: Next Generation [8]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angry Sarada, Family, Fluff, Gen, Justifiably, One Shot, Oneshot, Papa!Sasuke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 02:03:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7599145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyBlooms/pseuds/IvyBlooms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarada meets her papa for the first time in twelve years but it’s not exactly the heart warming reunion her mother had been hoping for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies. For the longest time I chose to keep my Naruto 'next gen' drabbles/onshots on Tumblr only but recently I've decided that I will compile them here on A03 into a series. This is probably one of my favorite next gen pieces that I've written. I've always believed (and preferred) that Sarada is more like her father. In Gaiden she was much more like Sasuke, compassionate, strong willed, and haughty. She did not forgive Sasuke easily and I appreciated that about her because what he did was pretty shitty and unlike certain other characters (*major side eye at a particular pink haired young woman) Sarada did not just welcome Sasuke into her heart without hesitance after all that he put her through.
> 
> Anyway, no one cares about my personal opinions concerning Gaiden or the Naruto ending so...ENJOY!

“Who are you?”

Those words stung, and she knew it. Sarada watched with anticipation as the man’s face fell slightly and his coal colored hair hid his eyes, discreetly masking the pain that she hoped he felt by her question. Sarada didn’t feel remorse for her cruelty. He deserved it.

The man was quiet for a time. He simply took to staring at his sandal clad feet. He didn’t appear ashamed, though he should have been. 

“I am your father, Sarada.” He finally answered, meeting her eyes boldly. 

Sarada was uncomfortable with this entire situation and, without a doubt, the most furious she’d ever been in her life.

* * *

 

Sarada’s mother had summoned her home during her training session with Chou Chou and she had been fit to be tied when there was no explanation given. Sarada was tempted to ignore the summons but Chou Chou had easily convinced her after reminding Sarada of what her mother was like when angry.

Sarada headed home at a leisurely pace, the message hadn’t been particularly urgent and this would be her own form of passive revenge against her mother for interrupting her. When she did at last arrive home, something was very clearly off. There was nothing visibly unusual about the Uchiha emblem decorated home nor was there anything that should elicit a sense of weariness from Sarada that usually only came with the adrenaline of a mission. However, something just inherently seemed wrong, like something unseen was lurking inside the home. 

Sarada suddenly understood where the source of the dread was coming from. There was a strange presence within the house, alongside the comforting and familiar aura of her mother. She had never felt such dangerous chakra before and her heart dropped.

Rushing in, kunai drawn and ready, Sarada called for her mother. Had she remembered her training at the time, she would have entered quietly and hidden her chakra but at this point, pure instinct was ruling. 

“In here, honey.” Her mother responded cheerfully from the kitchen, her tone confused Sarada.

Approaching with abrupt caution, Sarada hid the kunai behind her back and peered around the corner. She was met with a most bizarre scene. Her mother was bent over their stove, frowning into a steaming pot, a ladle balanced in her palm. This was most bizarre because Sarada could count on her hand how many times she remembered her mother actually cooking. She was always busy with the hospital and would return home late, thus Sarada often had dinner at Inojin’s or Chou Chou’s, and occasionally Bolt’s. While Sarada’s mother was certainly loving and supportive, she had just never mastered the culinary arts.

“What are you doing, mama?” Sarada asked, temporarily forgetting the disturbing presence that she had sensed but a few moments ago.

Sakura turned away from the stove, her frown transforming into a brilliantly warm smile. She practically flew across the room in three long strides and scooped Sarada up into her arms and squeezed her to her chest.

“Oh, I have a surprise for you!” She cried excitedly but with a hint of mischief, as if she were hiding some grand secret.

At this point, Sarada was completely at a loss for words. Her mother was a naturally chipper woman, her line of work rather required her to be that way. She saw many people die on her tables and suffer great pains, her bright attitude was exactly what they needed to see. However, it seemed oddly out of place now.

“What surprise?” Sarada settled on questioning. It wasn’t her birthday, not for another few months, and she couldn’t recall anything that might initiate a celebration or a reward from her mother.

Sakura finally placed her daughter back on the floor, hands on her hips she grinned, peering over Sarada’s shoulder at an unseen figure.

Turning quickly, Sarada’s eyes landed on an extremely tall man cloaked in darkness and with hair that shadowed one eye. Sarada knew instantly who he was. There were a few photos around the house that Sakura had methodically placed, so she recognized his face immediately. It was certainly quite a bit more mature than the youthful and soft one depicted in many of the photos but it had been twelve years, after all.

“Hello, Sarada.” He greeted. His voice was flat, giving no indication as to what he felt in that moment. 

Sarada was, for a time, speechless. She simply stared at the man whom had been absent from her life for the past twelve years. She didn’t quite know what to feel in regards to him. Before, she honestly didn’t have much of an opinion on him. She believed when her mother told her that he was on important missions, she didn’t ask what they were of what so important to make him leave for twelve years because she honestly hadn’t cared. She never met him, she had no connection to those cold black eyes that stared back at her in those lonesome photographs. 

There were times when Sarada ached for that position of father to be filled. She once suggested that Sakura begin dating and find someone who would actually be around to support her but the pink haired mother had vehemently refused and insisted that her heart belonged only to _“Sasuke-kun”_.

Despite her previously indifferent attitude towards the father she had never met, in that instant, she felt her blood boil. She felt the years of loneliness pile up and explode inside her like a soda bottle that had be shaken one too many times. She remembered all those instances of loneliness that she’d endured while her mother worked long hours, the times she would eat alone, the times she would walk home alone, the days she would play alone, the mornings when she would get herself ready, the evenings when she would put herself to bed, there was an empty slot where her father should have been. She shouldn’t have been alone, he should have been there.

While Sarada was steaming inside, in the Uchiha fashion, her anger was outwardly calm. Sarada wasn’t one for fist fighting when mad or for screaming, she much preferred using calm and poison dipped words, something which many people had told her would make her ancestors proud.

“Who are you?”

* * *

The rest of the evening went by painfully slow. Sakura seemed disheartened by her daughter’s apparent memory lapse and Sasuke’s masked pain. She hurried to fix the damage but it was already done.

Placing her hands on Sarada’s shoulders, she said, “This is your papa, Sarada. You remember, we have pictures of him. I’ve shown them to you.”

This was true. Whenever Sakura was feeling particularly nostalgic or reminiscent, she would always collect the few photos she possessed of Sarada’s father and show them off. The stories she told of the mysterious father figure were always the same and never changed but Sarada always listened attentively because she recognized this as her mother coping.

_“This is our genin team photo.” Sakura would laugh at the sour look on her husband’s face. “He and the Seventh fought constantly back then. But I think, deep down, they really were the best of friends, even before either of them acknowledged it out loud.”_

Sarada frowned, she felt sick inside at having to burst her mother’s bubble. She wanted nothing to do with this man.

“This is not my father.” Sarada answered harshly before pulling away from her mother’s gentle grip and retreating to her bedroom.

As she ascended the stairs, she could hear her mother choke out soft reassurances.

“It will just take time for her to adjust.” Sakura insisted, though it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself. “She needs to get to know you, Sasuke-kun.”

Sarada couldn’t but notice that her father was completely silent.

* * *

Sarada did not leave her room the rest of the night and even when her mother came knocking to tell her that dinner was ready; she pretended to be asleep. 

The next morning, the house was silent and Sarada lazed in bed for an extra hour, unwilling to be met with the possibility of running into her father. She sensed him, already awake and moving around downstairs. He had woken up early, before her mother, and had seemed to be pacing the length of the first floor ever since. 

When Sarada sensed her mother rousing from bed, she knew that she would be forced to get up as well. To save herself the trouble, Sarada dressed in casual clothing, a pair of shorts and a red tank with the Uchiha crest embroidered on the back. It was her day off from training, coincidentally enough. Wonderful.

Exiting her room, Sarada padded down the stairs and entered the kitchen, carefully avoiding the living room where her father was currently positioned. She quickly assembled a bowl of cereal and devoured it hurriedly at the counter. She didn’t have training that day but she could easily make up an excuse of having promised to help the Seventh in his office. 

However, just as Sarada placed her bowl in the sink and she was about to make an escape, her father appeared in the entryway, face completely blank. Sarada admitted that she was startled by his sudden appearance but quickly calmed down.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither saying anything. Birds chirped loudly outside the home and the beginning of morning street activity could be heard just barely. 

“Will you take a walk with me?” The man finally asked.

Sarada was tempted to say no. Actually, there was nothing she wanted more than to refuse the man his request, but just behind her father, she saw her mother, eyes silently pleading with her to accept.

“Fine.” Sarada snapped before she could think otherwise on her decision.

Sakura grinned, Sarada frowned, and Sasuke remained stoic.

* * *

The walk, not surprisingly, began with silence. 

Sasuke lead Sarada down a secluded path, away from the bustling main roads of Konoha. Sarada followed at a distance behind him, patiently waiting for him to speak first. She certainly wasn’t going to be the one to initiate conversation. 

The two continued further down the path until they were lead into a thick forest that Sarada had never bothered to venture into. For a brief moment, Sarada wondered if perhaps her father intended to murder her out there, but the thought quickly disappeared when a more rational side pointed out that her mother knew where she was and who she was with. If her father truly did intend to kill her, it certainly wouldn’t be a very wise move.

After walking through the green forest for what seemed like an hour, Sasuke came to an abrupt stop and sat down on a rough boulder. They had arrived in a clearing, Sarada noticed, she couldn’t sense anyone for miles.

“Please, sit down, Sarada.” He said, tone rich and warm. 

Again, Sarada felt a flash of rebellion surface but decided it really wasn’t worth it, and settled on her legs in the grass. She stared at him, waiting.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation.“ He concluded, “I haven’t exactly been the best father.“

“You haven’t been a father at all.” Sarada reminded hotly. He wasn’t deserving of the word.

Sasuke nodded his head, understanding. “Yes, you’re right. I haven’t been.” He paused, “I haven’t been there for you or your mother over the years.”

Sarada folded her arms across her chest, waiting. He was quiet and a breeze blew over the clearing before he spoke again.

“I was atoning for my sins, Sarada.“

“Sins?” Sarada had heard rumors from her peers and the whispered comments of adults her whole life. She never really thought much on them because, again, she hadn’t much cared about her father until this point.

“I have done some terrible things in my life, Sarada.” He explained, “I have stolen from the innocent, betrayed those who loved me, and taken the lives of the defenseless. I have done many things which I am not proud of and have followed me.”

Sarada was interested now. She listened.

Sasuke sighed, the first hint of some emotion other than frustrating calm. “I needed to atone for those sins. I can never take them back or make it up to those who I have harmed but I can try to forgive myself at least. Your mother taught me that.” He paused, a flicker of emotion in his distant eyes before continuing, “I needed to take this journey of forgiveness and redemption in order to be a better man so that I could be a better husband and father. Before now, I was not fit to raise a child or live a domestic life while those whom I had ruined in my past were unable to experience the same happiness.”

“What have you been doing to gain this redemption?” Sarada found herself asking, intrigued by her father’s answer.

Sasuke gazed at her a moment, then he said, “Many villages and towns were ravaged by the war and in need to extensive reconstruction. Hundreds of children were left orphaned and the streets were strewn with unidentifiable corpses. I was not to return to Konoha until every single village was back on its feet.” Glancing at his hand, Sasuke formed a fist and frowned. “I never expected it to take so long. I thought I’d be gone for three years, back before you even realized I was gone, but the damage was substantial.“

What seemed like hours passed while Sarada listened to her father’s story of redemption. She heard how he labored for years in villages, reconstructing buildings and homes for the inhabitants, and then aided in diplomatic affairs. He protected the vulnerable villages from bandit raids and acted as a silent protector, going by a different name with each village he visited. Finally, after he finished hammering in the last nail in the last village that needed aid, he returned to Konoha.

“I understand if you can’t forgive me. My redemption is no excuse for my absence, no excuse for all that I’ve missed. I can never give you back those moments that you should have had with me. I’m sorry, Sarada.” And for the first time since Sarada had seen him, his eyes sparkled with unshed tears and a deep despair. 

Compassion welled up inside her. Despite her warranted anger, she felt sympathy for her father. He was a sad man, ruined by a dark past which he could not forget and Sarada did not entirely understand. 

Influenced by the need to comfort, something she thought she likely inherited from her mother, she sat up on her knees and leaned over, wrapping her small arms around his warm neck. She squeezed kindly, just holding him for a moment.

Then she whispered, “It’s okay papa. I forgive you.”

Sarada felt warm droplets of liquid plop on her shoulder and she smiled. Everything would be okay now. Her father was home and he was, for the foreseeable future, there to stay.


End file.
